Nothing As It Seems
by cacorn158
Summary: This takes place in late February 2009. While working on a case, Kate Beckett meets a stranger in a biker bar, a stranger who has an immediate impact her.


**Here's my first attempt at a one shot!**

**This is set a few weeks before the series began. I hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.**

Nothing As It Seems

By the time her alarm told her it was time to get up, NYPD Homicide Detective Kate Beckett had already been awake for an hour. In fact, there were many nights when she really wasn't quite sure why she bothered setting her alarm; it wasn't as though she was ever likely to sleep in; in order to do that she would actually need to sleep in the first place.

This time of year was the worst. February, God how she hated it. For ten years now, she had hated February. Christmas was always bad enough but she would simply work through it, working extra shifts to allow those colleagues with families the time off; so that particular holiday season just passed her by. Once the New Year came, the downward spiral would begin until the day arrived, the anniversary, January 9th.

Ten years. Ten years now since Detective John Raglan stood in their house and told them that her mother was dead. Ten years since her life was turned on its head. It was always bad, but this year had been worse. She'd tried, she really had, but to no avail; the anger, the sense of injustice, the acute loss all dragged her to the very edge of that rabbit hole once again and she was left staring into the abyss.

Maybe if it were just Christmas, New Year and the anniversary of her death, she would start to come out of it by February, but no, because then it was February 4th, her mom's birthday. Johanna Beckett would have been fifty eight years old this year and Kate had to wonder what her mother would have been doing now had she not been stabbed in that alley, left to rot with the garbage. Would she still be working or would both her parents have retired by now? She was certain that whatever they would have decided to do, they would have done it together; that's how her parents always worked; that was why her father had descended into the hell of alcoholism after her death, it had just been too damned hard to carry on without his partner, his partner in every single meaning of that word.

Now February was nearly over. At least she had managed to get a little sleep last night and she had a new day to look forward to and this one would be a little different. She actually got to go to the precinct on her bike, something she had never done before because it had never seemed worth the hassle of changing clothes when she got there and changing back again to return to her apartment. Also she could never be sure what time she would finish in an evening and it was just too risky riding the bike when she was over-tired, not a rare occurrence during a hard case.

They had been working a homicide in conjunction with the Gangs Division. Their victim had got herself caught in the middle of a war between two motorcycle gangs but a woman had contacted the cops saying that she had information about the death of Vicky Green. She was willing to hand over the information but only with the promise of anonymity. So it was that Kate would be heading to a well-known biker bar at lunchtime to meet the woman. It wasn't exactly an undercover operation, all she had to do was meet the informant in the ladies washroom at one o'clock and collect a USB drive from her. The woman was terrified and had insisted that she would only meet with a woman and that woman must not look like a cop. Hence the reason for Kate getting the assignment; in her leathers there was not a chance in hell of her ever being taken for a cop.

As Kate approached the bar on her bike she noticed Ryan and Esposito in a near-by park. She had to smile to herself; looking at them right now, there was no way they would be spotted as her back-up, they had the geeky, college student act totally perfected. She was early, it was still only twelve thirty but she wanted to be in place before the informant arrived with her boyfriend and his mates. The woman, Annie Sullivan, had told them that she had evidence that her boyfriend had murdered Vicky Green and also evidence of the gang's other criminal activities. She was terrified of her boyfriend but could see no way of escaping his hold over her unless he was put away for a very long time.

Kate knew that she had to play this carefully but nonetheless it should be a very straightforward job. She looked around the bar. As these types of establishments went, this one didn't look too bad. It was clean and well-lit and at this time of day appeared to be quite welcoming although Kate knew perfectly well that it would be very different later on.

She noted that there were a couple of young men, students most likely, playing a fairly boisterous game of pool and the only other customer was a man sitting on a stool at the far end of the bar. Kate took a seat where she could see anyone approaching the door as well as keep an eye on the rest of the bar. As soon as she sat down, the barman put a bottle of lite beer in front of her. Kate looked at him curiously,

"From the guy over there," he said, pointing to the other end of the bar.

She looked across to the man who had turned towards her and raised his own bottle in acknowledgment. He was a pretty big guy and as he looked in her direction, Kate could see that he was actually quite good-looking in a rugged sort of way. He appeared to be probably about ten years older than she was which would put him in his late thirties. He was wearing jeans that appeared to have seen better days and a blue t-shirt which certainly showed his rather attractive physique. A tatty leather jacket hung on the back of the stool and his outfit was completed by a pair of well-worn biker boots. His hair looked as though he'd run his hands through it rather too often and she had to admit, the stubble on his chin was more than a little sexy.

She shook her head to clear that unwelcome thought. She was here on the job, not to pick up the nearest, admittedly very pleasing on the eye, barfly; although she saw no reason to be impolite,

"Thanks!"

He continued to gaze at her and appeared to be trying to think of something to say but what he came up with almost made her laugh out loud,

"What's a woman like you doing in this place?"

"Seriously? That's the best you've got?"

He looked suitably ashamed of his lack of originality and Kate felt a little guilty,

"Anyway, thanks again for the beer," she said as peace offering, "Shall we start again? I'm Kate."

The smile was back on his face now and she was taken aback by how good that made her feel. This just wasn't her. Allowing herself to be chatted up by strangers in bars was something she hadn't done since before – well, it had been over ten years.

She suddenly became aware that, while she'd been puzzling over her actions, the stranger had moved closer and was now sitting on the next stool. As she looked at his face, so much closer now, she was struck by a sense of familiarity but she was given no more time to ponder as he put out his hand and introduced himself,

"Hi, Kate. I'm Alex. It's a pleasure to meet you," and he once again brought out his million dollar smile.

Kate was finding this situation spiralling out of her control rapidly and if there was one thing Kate Beckett needed, it was control. She was just about to accept his handshake to try to reclaim some semblance of control when she suddenly realised who the guy reminded her of.

"Oh my God! You look just like -,"

Before she could finish her thought, though, he interrupted her,

"Don't tell me. I know. Millionaire author, playboy and the darling of page six of the New York Ledger, Richard Castle."

He had actually groaned as he said it and Kate found herself feeling guilty yet again.

"Sorry? Do I take it that you get that a lot?"

"It's not too bad normally but when I'm here in New York? Yeah, I get it a lot."

That seemed to break the ice for Kate. Her heart had leapt into her throat when she thought, just for a brief moment, that the guy buying her a drink in that biker bar was actually her favourite author, Richard Castle; but really, what the hell would Richard Castle be doing in a place like this? Now she was sure he was just a regular guy, she was in control again, although she did realise that she would have to keep her gaze away from his eyes because they were really doing a job on her heart rate.

"So, you're not from New York then. Funny, for some reason, I thought you were."

Finally they seemed to be headed for a normal conversation but she quickly discovered that Alex preferred to deflect it back to her.

"Ah, but what about you, Kate? What's your story, I wonder?"

Before Kate could even begin to process what was happening, Alex was talking again.

"You do come from New York but you're not Bridge and Tunnel, no trace of the boroughs when you talk so I'd have to say you hail from Manhattan which means money. Oh, you're not rich but certainly well off; maybe your parents are lawyers or doctors or some other similar profession and you, well, you'll have followed in their footsteps. But that then brings me to the question, why are you here, sitting in this biker bar in the middle of the working week?"

Kate's face had hardened while he spoke. How the hell had he managed that? How had he managed to hit so close to home?

"You don't know me, Alex, so don't think you do," she growled. He knew that he had gone too far and immediately tried to bring the conversation back onto a friendlier footing.

"I'm sorry. It's a nasty habit of mine, trying to find the story behind everyone. You asked before where I'm from; well, actually I am from New York but I now live and work out of LA. I'm a location scout. That's what I'm doing here actually. The company I'm working for at the moment are making a biker film here in New York and I'm searching out suitable locations."

As he spoke, she began to calm down again. He seemed to have that effect on her; just by talking, he managed to bring her back onto an even keel. That was a new one for her as well. This man was nothing like anyone she'd ever known before and she wasn't quite sure what to do with that information. She'd only been here ten minutes but she felt like she'd known this man all her life.

As she thought about how short a time she'd actually been here, she suddenly brought herself back to reality and the reason she was sitting at this bar in the first place. She glanced out to the parking lot but there was no sign of her informant as yet but she reminded herself to keep her mind on the job and not to get too distracted by this handsome stranger.

"Now, Kate, I've told you why I'm here, what about you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Kate couldn't help herself and she just had to say,

"If you're so clever, Alex, you tell me why I'm here."

His eyes lit up as though he'd unexpectedly been given the keys to a treasure store.

"For one thing, you're not a regular biker chick."

Kate raised an eyebrow at this but refrained from comment, simply allowing him to continue.

"You may have arrived on that awesome-looking Harley but you just don't fit the profile and you're here on your own. No tattoos, either."

"Visible ones, anyway," she said with a smirk.

That stopped him in his tracks momentarily. She could see him swallowing hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down rapidly and she suddenly found that by teasing him, she'd managed to regain some of that lost control. It didn't take him long to pull himself together, though and he hit back with,

"Show me yours and I'll show you mine!" which quickly wiped the smirk off her face.

"Back to the point. You do have the appearance of someone who works long hours and doesn't tend to sleep too well, maybe because of the responsibility of your job; so I'm back to the idea of doctor or lawyer. Possibly, but I don't think so."

She could tell he was on a roll now and was quite intrigued to find where he would end up with his analysis, although there was no way on earth she was going to give him any clue so she made a point of putting on her very best poker face,

"Do continue. I'm fascinated just how far off track you can get with this!"

"Oh you wound me, Kate!" he said, feigning a blow to the chest and Kate couldn't help but laugh at his antics. Suddenly his face lit up like a Christmas tree and he looked like a little boy who had just been given permission to buy everything in a sweet shop.

"I've got it! You're sitting in such a position that you can see anyone approaching the place so you're waiting for someone; not a boyfriend because then you wouldn't be chatting quite so freely to me," and suddenly his face fell again,

"Oh God, please tell me it's not a girlfriend."

Kate's burst of laughter put the smile back on his face,

"Not a girlfriend, then. Good. I know what you are, you're a spy. CIA. Here to meet with a contact. Or maybe one of those guys at the pool table is really a foreign agent and you're keeping tabs on him."

In spite of just how close he was coming to the truth, Kate had to laugh at his enthusiasm for his subject but thought the time had come to put an end to the speculation. She'd come up with a suitable cover story while he'd been speaking and she thought she'd better put it to the test.

"Not even close, Alex," she said with a smile. "I'm an advertising executive. My job is deathly boring and the only way I find that I can get through the mind-numbingly dull days, is by taking extra long lunch breaks and hitting the road on my bike. I'm a woman in a biker bar on my own so I like to be able to keep an eye on who's around and if I don't like what I see, I can head out the back way; hence my choice of seat. Anything else you'd like to know?"

She could tell that he was thinking over this information and suddenly got the distinct impression that he wasn't buying her story but he simply leant closer to her, put his hand on her arm and whispered into her ear, rather cryptically,

"It's okay, Kate. Your secret's safe with me."

She barely heard what he said, though, because the moment he touched her arm, it was as though an electrical charge passed straight through her. She felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand to attention and, when he whispered close to her ear and she felt his breath on her neck, she barely managed to suppress a shiver. Since when had a man ever been able to bring out that reaction in her? Let alone a man she had known for less than twenty minutes. This was totally crazy. Kate Beckett did not react like this. Only she was doing and, frankly, it terrified her. Had she not had a job to do, she would have been out of that bar, on her bike and headed back to her apartment in two seconds flat but, as it turned out, it was Alex who left.

If she didn't know better, she could have sworn, from the look of complete bemusement on his face, that he had felt the same bolt of electricity at their brief touch and suddenly he was excusing himself,

"I'm sorry, Kate. I have to go. I hadn't realised the time. I've, er, got a flight to catch, er, back to, back out west," and just like that, the confident man had disappeared and a hesitant, jabbering wreck of a man was left in his place. "It's been a real pleasure."

With that, he threw some cash down on the bar, grabbed his jacket and was gone, leaving Kate staring, open-mouthed, through the doorway, at his rapidly retreating figure.

She didn't have long to consider what had just happened, though, because no sooner had Alex disappeared from view, than a group of about a dozen bikes roared into the parking lot. It was time to get the job done.

**Four Weeks Later**

Kate hadn't had much time to think about Alex, the stranger in the biker bar. At least she hadn't had time during the days. At night, though, she found her mind was rarely off the topic. She would lie in bed thinking about his hand on her arm and his breath on her neck and in her dreams, well let's just say, there things progressed far beyond chaste touches. She was actually sleeping, though, almost as if her sub-conscious mind wanted to get back to the erotic dreams and, as a consequence, she was coming out of her February depression and was far happier with life. She had tried to find some information about Alex but she had so little to go on, it was a virtually impossible task and she had accepted that she would probably never see him again. She had her job to do and so she put all her efforts into that.

Once Kate had acquired the information from the informant, the biker case was soon tied up. The boyfriend was charged with Vicky Green's murder and there had been enough evidence for numerous other charges to be filed against the rest of the gang ranging from assault to various drug-related offences. Since then, Kate and her team had been working on the murder of small claims lawyer, Marvin Fisk. They'd been struggling for leads but another case had suddenly brought about a new direction for the investigation.

Alison Tisdale, the daughter of real estate mogul, Jonathan Tisdale had also been murdered but it was the way the crime scene had been staged that had drawn Kate's attention and had caused her to link the two crimes. She recognised the scenes from books written by her favourite author, Richard Castle. Marvin Fisk's body had been laid out just like the victim in Hell Hath No Fury and Alison Tisdale was found, covered in rose petals with sunflowers covering her eyes, as in Flowers For Your Grave. She couldn't, for one second, consider the author was responsible for the deaths but she did need to speak to him.

She knew that there was a launch party for his latest Derrick Storm book being held that very evening and she had to reign in her inner fan-girl at the prospect of crashing the party and interviewing the 'Master of the Macabre' himself. She, Ryan and Esposito showed their badges to the security staff on the door and entered the lavish event. Asking where the man of the moment was, she was directed towards the bar where she saw a man with his back to her, talking to two redheads, one older, the other just a teenager. Listening in, momentarily, on his conversation, she gathered that the two women were in fact his mother and his daughter and she also learned that he wasn't exactly enjoying the party. Well she was about to give him something new to think about.

"Mr Castle? I'm Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD Homicide," at which point he turned with pen poised,

"Where would you -"

Neither of them finished what they'd been about to say when they recognised the person standing in front of them.

"Oh, God! Alex?"

"Kate?"

**Well there you go. Hope you enjoyed it.**

**I had considered continuing but I think it is much better left there.**

**In case you're wondering why Castle was in the biker bar, he did tell the truth, kind of; he's just killed off Derrick Storm and is looking for inspiration, so it can safely be assumed that he was doing research and trying to stay under the radar in the process, hence his attire and calling himself Alex.**


End file.
